


(making eyes at each other) over the punch

by sentichefuoripiove



Series: say it now [1]
Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Missing Scenes, alex is oblivious, jackson and jo are in a shipping war, shameless flirting, some light swearing, this is basically an excuse for me to write team attending(TM) shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-17 11:32:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentichefuoripiove/pseuds/sentichefuoripiove
Summary: It starts withthank you, Andrew, I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk after all, to which he repliesdon’t worry about it, you’re obviously still having quite a week, which makes her laugh for a second, and she has to turn to hide her phone (and the grin on her face) from Amelia’s curious look at the dinner table.Wanna know what happens to Meredith and Andrew in the time between Thatcher's death and the beginning of Girlfriend In A Coma?They flirt.That's what happens.





	(making eyes at each other) over the punch

Meredith takes time off work for a whole week after Thatcher dies. She rationalises for it by saying that it’s Thanksgiving week anyway, so she might as well stay home and get the house and the food ready. Not that she is fooling anyone anyway (when has she ever cooked in her life), but she feels untethered, as if having to watch her father die was like letting go of the last thing that kept her grounded to a different time, a different version of herself.

She didn’t expect to feel any different, is surprised when she discovers that she does.

The day that it happens she calls Alex to tell him. She goes with the ‘strictly professional’ route, calls him just to let him know what is going on and that she’s going to spend some time with the kids, and he gives her his standard, very neutral, fake-uninterested answer of “we’ll make it work, don’t worry about it”. She tells him the way any attending would tell the Chief of Surgery, and he replies like the Chief would with any attending. But the same night he’s there, ringing her doorbell with tequila, Jo to keep the kids occupied and the silent promise of _no questions_. 

As much as she wants to convince herself that she isn’t actually feeling affected by Thatcher’s passing, the night she spends on the couch with her head on Alex’s shoulder and a sleeping Ellis curled up at her side helps her feel grounded again. Maybe not to the same, older version of herself, but something better, something that she can still recognise.

(And maybe she cries a little too, because Alex complains that his shirt is covered in snot and _honestly Mer, get a grip_ , but hugs her tight before leaving anyway, both arms around her shoulders and lips on her temple, a gentle reminder that he isn’t going anywhere).

There’s something to be said about the stark contrast between the quiet way Alex just offers his shoulder, and the very long, very wordy phone call she shares with Cristina, but somehow she needs both and her friends know that, and after she finally starts to feel like she is going to be ok after all.

The entire week she gets countless texts, most of them from Molly (Meredith truly cherishes them, but they make her miss Lexie like she hasn’t in a while), the others from colleagues, offering condolences and asking her how she’s doing. Bailey and Weber both call, Jo offers to babysit again if she needs her to. Linc’s text would be sweet and kind if it didn’t make her feel kinda uneasy.

And, of course, because she doesn’t seem to be able to shake him, one from Andrew DeLuca: short, simple, perfectly respectful, and at the same time... more meaningful than she expected. 

It starts with _thank you, Andrew, I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk after all_ , to which he replies _don’t worry about it, you’re obviously still having quite a week_ , which makes her laugh for a second, and she has to turn to hide her phone (and the grin on her face) from Amelia’s curious look at the dinner table.

It continues with random texts throughout the next couple of days, while she hurries to get the house in order for the holidays. Balancing loads of laundry on her hip, she still takes the time to read his texts, which always start as work related. Meredith knows treatments and patients are all excuses, because every time one of them (she wishes she could say it’s always him) finds a way to make their conversations evolve into playful banter she is not really sure she should engage in, or encourage.

_I updated Dr Bailey on Mr Grant’s condition and she says he might need surgery again_

__

_Thank you, DeLuca. I’ll see if I can call Bailey today._

__

_Also, the Chief caught Kim and Schmidt again_

__

_Did I need to know that?_

__

_I don’t know, but you asked me to keep you posted on what happens at work and I thought I would mention gossip too_

__

_You should work harder then, because Alex already told me_

__

_Damn it_

It ends with her giggling in her bed at night, her book forgotten on the bed cover and her face buried in her phone. Andrew has sent her the link to a youtube playlist of Italian songs she told him she used to listen to all the time when she was in college, and they are both delighted to discover that he knows and loves those songs too.

_you know they made a movie inspired by this one, right?_

__

_no way, really?? is it any good? i wanted to watch something to brush up on my italian_

__

_it’s honestly terrible, but the sequel it’s probably worse so there’s that_

__

_is it about the things he says in the song?_

__

_i’m gonna tell you only if you say you’re gonna watch it with me_

__

_…are you gonna make popcorn too?_

In the back of her head a small voice says _stop it_. She should probably listen to it. So she tries really hard to, doesn’t let the texting go further than what is necessary for him to do his job in her absence. Keep it professional.

She manages. For about 2 days. 

She spends the Black Friday weekend buying Christmas gifts for the kids and her sisters, trying to make the most of her leave before she has to go back to work. Toys, books, sweaters and bath products get wrangled in the back of her closet, waiting for Christmas morning to arrive. She spends all of Saturday fighting the urge to text him (because she is trying to be professional here), but when she gets stuck on what to get Alex she gives in, picks up the phone in the middle of the store and asks _what would make a good gift for a guy?_

__

_wait, is it for me?_

__

_shut up, DeLuca_.

***

Early December means that people are putting up Christmas lights, and consequently are falling off of ladders, making her first week back a blur of surgeries. 

Honestly, she is still in a weird headspace, so she welcomes the distraction. 

She is just out of surgery, the patient stable and transferred in the surgical ICU. She’s standing by the nurses’ desk with Maggie and a small gathering of interns, the two of them illustrating the course of treatment for the patient. The recovery will be long and tricky, and she is so focused on the conversation that she almost doesn’t notice him approaching the desk. Almost. 

He stops a couple feet from her, and it seems he hasn’t noticed her either, except for the fact that _of course he has_. 

Meredith, despite herself, keeps turning her head to steal glances at him, and every time she is lucky enough that he is looking at something else, but the next time she does she finds him looking straight into her eyes. He smiles knowingly, smug, and it shouldn’t make her insides turn the way it does.

“Oh, DeLuca, good! I was going to page you” Maggie gets his attention, and he drops his chart on the desk to walk over to the small group, stopping right next to Meredith. She suddenly stands a little straighter, stops herself from running her hand through her hair to make it look nicer. _Grow up Meredith, you’re not 13 anymore_.

“Do you need anything, Dr Pierce?” he asks, professional as ever, and Meredith hopes she is the only one that notices the way the corner of his mouth is turned in a small smile. Smug.

“I just wanted to fill you in on the course of treatment for Mrs Mitchell. I would like you to oversee the recovery” Maggie offers. “The interns would answer to you.”  
“Rea- Really?” he doesn’t hide his surprise, but he is also happy. They’ve been talking a bit about his future career on the phone these past few weeks, and this is one of the first milestones for a senior resident. Meredith nods along with her sister, smiling, and she maybe feels a bit proud of him too.

“Sure, it was your patient in the ER and you did a good job in surgery. I think you can handle it” Maggie confirms with a broad smile, turns back to the interns to give them tasks to complete. Suddenly no one is looking in their direction anymore.

“Oh mio Dio, non ci posso credere” he mutters under his breath, and she knows, _she knows_ he just said that in Italian because he wanted to share it with her, but not everyone else.

She decides she is not gonna read that much into it.

She doesn’t say anything, but she turns her head to meet his eyes. He is smiling his brightest smile, and she is taken aback by the fact that she is not at all surprised by what she sees. Gratitude, yes, like any resident would be grateful to their mentor for the opportunity he’s been given, but also… familiarity, like he knows he can be unguarded with her, like he knows she would get just how deep his excitement runs. Of course she knows, but not just in a normal ‘attending and resident discussing their career’ kind of way, but more like friends, who talk and share things beyond weather and holiday plans.

She’s not really sure what she should say (even if she is painfully aware that her expression matches his perfectly, and god knows what the whole thing must look like to a casual observer), so she just bumps her shoulder to his as a _congratulations_ , and leaves before the situation can get any more…. she doesn’t even know, but she sure as hell isn’t ready to find out yet.

***

On the 15th of December, Jackson insists on having a big Christmas dinner at his place. He says that this is the last chance they are going to get before people leave to go spend the holidays away with family, and he seems to really care about it, so she gets a babysitter for the night and goes. 

She dresses up for it, make-up and dangly earrings and a black glittery dress she thought she would never wear, even when she bought it. Being a mother and a surgeon means she rarely gets to wear something other than sneakers and comfy pants, either sweats or scrubs. It’s not that she thinks that she’ll get lucky tonight, everyone invited to dinner is basically her family, she just feels like it has been a couple of shitty months and she deserves a night where she gets to feel desirable and hot.

As she steps into Jackson’s (unsurprisingly) fully-decked-out-for-the-holiday penthouse, she is greeted by a loud chorus of whistles and _hey, look at you!_ coming from the group standing by the bar. She smiles as she gets rid of her coat, comes to stand close to Alex, who grins widely (possibly already a little tipsy), puts his hand on the small of her back to welcome her into the circle, before planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Hey, this looks good on you” he compliments her, giving her one last look before offering her a shot glass of what she knows is tequila. Meredith returns her best friend’s grin, considers berating him for being so quick to assume she would want to drink, before throwing caution to the wind, downing her drink and turning to face the rest of the group. “Hello everyone, happy holidays!” She is again overwhelmed by different voices wishing back _happy holiday_ all at the same time, and she laughs at Alex’s attempt to put another glass into her hand. 

She gets lost in the conversation, people talking over one another, all trying to talk over the music coming from the sound system. She loves all these people, has known them for what truly feels all her life, and as she stands there, studying this familiar, filled with love, messy confusion, she thinks she never felt more at home.

Meredith excuses herself after a while, fishes the bottle of wine she brought as a present out of her purse before making her way to the kitchen, where she expects to find the rest of her friends. The farther she gets from the group at the bar, the clearer she can make out the conversation coming from the kitchen: Jackson is standing by the stove, stirring into a pot, and even before Meredith sees her she can hear Jo’s voice, filled with disbelief and annoyance.

“Jackson! You promised!”  
“I didn’t promise anything Jo. You’re the one that said…” the man counters, turning to look at Jo.  
“I said” Jo interrupts him, “that since it was the holidays we would drop it, because we didn’t want to pressure her.”  
“And I agreed with you, so I did drop it” he says, turning back to the stove, “but it’s not like we agreed they couldn’t co-”  
“Oh, _come the fuck on_ ” Jo bursts, clearly exasperated. “You played me! We agreed, and then you invited him anyway!”  
“Who are we talking about?” Meredith asks with a cheery tone, finally having reached the threshold, trying to get her friends’ attention.

“Erm… I think they mean me” an amused voice tries, coming from a corner of the kitchen that she couldn’t see before as she was coming into the room.

Andrew.

No, not Andrew… _DeLuca_.

 _Andrew DeLuca_. Standing in Jackson Avery’s kitchen in a way nicer shirt than what she is used to see him in, staring at her in a way that should make her feel uncomfortable, if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s making her all kinds of weak.

“You… uhm, you look nice Dr Grey” he manages to spit out, and when she smiles at him she can hear Jo basically scream in frustration, before storming out of the kitchen muttering curse words, clearly directed at Jackson, who is humming some sort of victory song.

Meredith isn’t sure she wants to ask what that’s about.

All the commotion from the kitchen causes the rest of the party to join them, and soon Meredith has to step further into the room to avoid being trampled over, and by the way Jackson (and Amelia? That can’t be good) keep smirking, she’s not so sure it’s a coincidence she ends up pressed against Andrew in a corner of the now overcrowded kitchen.

“You do look very nice tonight” Andrew suddenly whispers into her hear, distracting her from Owen’s story about Leo’s first word. Her breath hitches in her throat when she realises just how close he actually is, but manages to whisper back “Thank you. You too.” Simple. Polite. Noncommittal.

(What actually comes to her mind is something she couldn’t possibly bring herself to actually say out loud. _You look truly fucking hot_.)

“Actually….” he continues, voice even lower, like he really wants to make it impossible for everyone else to hear. She turns slightly to face him, his eyes darker than she’s ever seen them, filled with a lust and longing that she can’t deny anymore, not even to herself. As much as she wants to, she can’t tear her gaze away. “Actually, you look truly fuckin-“

“Maggie!” she cries in a panic, turning her head so fast she’s pretty sure she hurt her neck. Everyone has stopped talking, and they’re all looking at her to see what question to her sister would require such urgency.

To be totally honest, she has nothing to ask Maggie. It was just the first name to come to mind as her brain was racing 100 miles per hour, trying to come up with something to stop him from finishing his sentence, because she is pretty sure she knows what he was gonna say, and she is sure she cannot let that happen. Not tonight. 

(Not tonight? Not ever!)

Maggie is still looking at her, a frown on her face, and Meredith has to think again fast: “Erm… Do you need help getting the food on the table?” she asks, lamely, and she can feel Andrew quietly laughing into his drink, right next to her.

“This is not funny” she hisses, after Maggie declines her help and everyone else seems to have gone back to their conversation.  
“It is, it is a little funny” he responds with a grin, before stepping away to join Amelia and start a conversation she can’t make out.

Meredith just stands there, drink in hand, trying to make her knees stop wobbling from what almost happened.

This is why she doesn’t wear dresses.

When the food is finally ready, they all start to make their way to the dinner table. There’s a bit of confusion on where everyone should sit, and she can see that Jackson and Jo are whisper-arguing again, and before she can choose her chair, Jo grabs her by the arm and pushes her in the space between her and Owen. Jo looks triumphantly at Jackson, who just shrugs with a frown and takes his place at the end of the table. 

Meredith still has no idea what this is about. 

She ends up sitting exactly across from Andrew (of course), and they aren’t even done with the appetizers and she’s already red and flustered. She blames it on the two tequilas Alex made her down earlier on an empty stomach, plus all the wine she’s having. 

She knows full well that’s not the reason. 

It’s not like she’s doing in on purpose, but she catches herself more times that she cares to admit locking eyes with him from across the table, and every time she finds he’s already looking at her. The same expression he had in the kitchen (like he wants to eat her alive, she thinks blushing) is there, but he also has a charming, soft smile on, like he’d be perfectly happy to spend the night just looking at her. 

She is forced to tear herself from this little bubble they’ve created when she realises Maggie has been calling her name several times now. 

“Mer, are you ok?” Maggie asks concerned, from her seat besides Jackson. “You look flushed, do you feel hot?” Everyone turns to look at her in worry, and Meredith almost misses the way Andrew’s eyes flash with mischief. 

Oh no, he won’t dare. 

“You’re right Dr Pierce, she does look hot” he says, looking straight into Meredith’s eyes with an innocent smile. “Are you alright, Dr Grey?”

Jackson and Amelia both snort into their food in a perfectly synchronised way that she would find funny if she wasn’t completely mortified. Jo looks like she’s about to start throwing things. 

Meredith shoots Andrew the deadliest glare she can muster, raises her eyebrows and tries to communicate just how _not cool_ that was. 

“I’m fine, Maggie” she says cooly, addressing her sister, but really still staring down the man in front of her, “this is what happens when you have three kids and you think you can hold your alcohol like you used to.”

The only ones that seem to believe her are, bless their hearts, Owen and Alex, that just shrug at this exchange and continue stuffing their face with food. Meredith sees Jo whispering something into Alex’s ear, who shrugs and reaches for another dinner roll. Meredith has never loved her best friend more than in this moment. 

When it seems that the commotion has died down and no one is looking at her anymore, she turns again to glance at Andrew, and his face is such a mix of glee and shame, as if to say _I’m sorry, but come on, it was funny_ , that she can’t help but let herself go into a broad smile. 

To hell if someone at the table notices.

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I need to thank dearemma and cartoonheart for their support, because I started writing this IN MARCH, I spent most of my time complaining to them that I couldn't finish this, and if it weren't for them this would never have seen the light of day. Thanks friends.
> 
> This is another part of my 'what happens in all the missing moments from 15x12' series. It's light and flirty, because the idea of Mer getting flustered every time she thinks of Andrew is still very funny to me.
> 
> Also (not that anyone would care), I went through the ep to figure out the exact dates for every scene, and Thatcher actually dies on Thanksgiving, not the week before. But I wanted to write it like this and, honestly, Grey's timeline is the wackiest thing on TV so I think Shonda will understand, lol.
> 
> All my favorite headcanons make an appearance in this one. Might have a follow up chapter with some more flirting, idk.
> 
> Thank for reading!


End file.
